


Two for Now

by bananabog



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: ...never, Egg Laying, Egg Play, Haha jk, M/M, Oviposition, Sex Toys, happy fluffy silly sex, one of these days i'll write normal sex stuff, stanley having no clue wtf to do but obliging anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 16:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9132970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananabog/pseuds/bananabog
Summary: He doesn’t get it.“And you don’t need to.” Ford presses the firm, silicone toys into Stan’s bewildered hands. He leans in close enough so he can breathe across the shell of Stanley’s ear and catch the lobe of it between his teeth. “C’mon.”And just like that, Stan stops asking questions.In summary: Stan learns that Ford likes taking eggs up the butt. Freeform PWP.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Taken from a tumblr prompt: "[...] ovi themes? [...] could just be the characters fantasizing, like silicone or jelly eggs or something."
> 
> Warning for: Oviposition / egg play, twin buttsecks. Happy, silly sex. Sex toys. Established relationship, written with sea!Stans in mind but eh. Dull and monotonous writing. Freeform 2.6K words what am i doiNG WITH MY LIFE

He doesn’t get it. **  
**

“And you don’t need to.” Ford presses the firm, silicone toys into Stan’s bewildered hands. He leans in close enough so he can breathe across the shell of Stanley’s ear and catch the lobe of it between his teeth. “C’mon.”

And just like that, Stan stops asking questions.

x x x 

They’re worked up good and proper some time later, and Stan estimates this is around the part where he normally puts his dick inside his brother. Normally.

He crawls up across Ford’s nicely flushed body, pressing lazy kisses up the darker trail of hair leading up from his twin’s navel. Ford hums and stretches beneath him contentedly. He smiles at Stanley and cards his six fingers through the other’s hair.

“Um. So…” Stanley nods just the slightest towards the bundle of small, brightly-colored, egg-shaped toys near their calves. He holds up the lube and raises an amused eyebrow. _Are we really doing this?_ his expression says, _this is so goddamned_ weird _but I love you and I’ve no clue what the hell I’m supposed to do._

Ford sits up slightly and they kiss again. He motions for Stan to pick up an egg and together they slather the lube on and around it. Stan gives the toy an experimental squeeze out of unthinking curiosity; it shoots out from between his fingers, and onto the pillows. They both snort and guffaw while trying to reclaim it (“Jesus christ.” “How was I supposed to know?”) and when they’ve finished re-positioning themselves Ford lays back against the sheets and idly strokes up and down along the hair on Stan’s forearm, as Stan lightly touches the toy to him.

It’s a bright, cartoonish blue. It’s the size and texture of a hard boiled egg, if hard boiled eggs were made of smooth, thick rubber. It’s tapered more at one end than the other.

“Pretend it’s your dick,” Ford comments helpfully, wryly, and Stan almost wants to just shove the damn thing inside his asshole in one shot because of it. He rolls his eyes instead.

“I’m, uh… “ He clears his throat. “Okay.”

He gets his thick, clumsy fingers around the very slippery toy, braces, and then… starts pushing it into Ford. There’s some resistance - _kind of like his dick,_ he supposes. He goes slow. Ford exhales softly and drops his head back against the pillows, still lightly raking his nails through Stan’s forearm hair as Stanley pushes the egg in, in…

Almost half of the thing is inside Ford now. “Okay?”

“Mmm,” Ford affirms, his eyes still closed.

Stan pushes a little harder, encouraged. The widest part of its width makes it past Ford’s entrance - and suddenly the rest of the toy smoothly disappears into him, as though sucked up inside him. Ford makes a small, choked noise, and his hips cant sharply downwards into Stan’s now-empty hands.  

“Holy Toledo,” Stan says. He’s nearly captivated by the sight of Ford’s hips bobbing up and down against an invisible pressure, how it doesn’t look like he’s just pushed _an entire fucking egg inside his brother’s asshole_ , how fucking _hard_ Ford is as his dick bobs, tantalizingly firm, atop his flexing abdominal muscles.

“Another one,” Ford whispers.

Stan doesn’t fumble with the second one as much. He coats it up - this one is a dark, jade green with specks of gold littered throughout it, but otherwise identical to the first toy - presses the toy against his brother’s ready pucker. He pushes it in, letting it sink in until the tapered tip of it is about a quarter deep… then relaxes his grip. The shape of the toy and Ford’s own body offer little to no resistance as it slips back out of him.

Ford shivers and undulates languidly against the sheets, free hands rubbing at his twin’s arms as Stan continues teasing him in this manner, repeatedly circling the blunt end of the egg against his entrance, pushing it in halfway, letting it slip back out.

“Mother _fucker_ ,” Ford groans, about a minute later. He kicks Stan in the thigh half-heartedly and his twin’s shoulders shake with withheld laughter as he continues easing the tip of the egg in and out of his body. Stan pushes the entirety of the second egg inside Ford in one swift motion while his twin is still bitching at him and Ford’s colorful comments end on a strangled gasp.    

_“Fuck!”_

“Cursing already.” Stan keeps rubbing at Ford, lubed fingertips lazily tracing his hole, mimicking the way he’d done with the egg earlier. He pushes in a fingertip and manages to get up to the first knuckle before he hits the silicone. “Shit. It’s _right_ here, holy crap.” He tears his eyes away from his brother’s privates and their gazes meet. “There’s two a’ these inside ya.”

Ford laughs breathily. His glasses are slightly askew and the lenses are a little foggy. He keeps kneading lazily at Stan. He looks at the remaining egg on the bed. “…There’s a third one.”

“No way.”

“I’ve taken more.”

 _“Bullshit.”_ Stan sounds amazed, terrified, and turned on.

Ford pulls on Stan’s arms, getting him to lower himself to Ford’s level. They start kissing again in earnest, Stan’s neglected arousal bumping up hot and heavy against his brother’s. Ford grinds easily down against the knee placed comfortably against his groin as he runs his hands along Stan’s fleshy sides.

“Third one…?” Stan mumbles against his lips after a while, in-between sucking Ford’s lower lip into his mouth and the slick and slide of their tongues together.

Ford shakes his head, still smiling. He rolls them over until he’s straddling Stan, where he continues swiveling himself down against the other’s erection.

“Next time.” _Two for now until you’re used to it._

“A’ight.” _Thanks._

Stan’s hands begin dancing along the insides of Ford’s spread thighs and Ford shudders in pleasure. They continue rolling against each other, Ford trapping Stanley’s cock between his slick cheeks and sliding up and down the length of it. Soon, they’re both panting, Ford’s dick swinging almost hypnotically with his movements.

Ford pauses long enough to position himself against Stan and then he’s sinking down again. This time Stan goes inside Ford. Stan _shouts_ , not expecting it. With the toys inside, Stan’s only able to get in just past the tip, but apparently that seems enough for Ford. He braces himself, his broad palms pressed against Stan’s hairy, heaving chest, and starts encouraging Stan to thrust shallowly into him with similar swivels of his hips.

Stanley feels them. He can _feel_ his cock ramming into the second egg that he’d pushed inside of Stanford earlier, and he can feel _that_ moving, too. He imagines it shifting and slipping and jostling inside of Stanford with every pump of his hips; he looks at where he’s grabbed his brother by his thick, meaty hipbones, and imagines those eggs nestled inside of him as he fucks his twin. He drags one hand from Ford’s hip to lightly splay over the expanse of flesh above the curls of his pubic hair, ignoring his weeping, jutting cock; presses ever so slightly against where he imagines the eggs must be and Ford moans aloud at the touch.

“Stanley.” Ford laughs again. His breath catches in his throat as he bounces atop of his twin. “ _Fuck_ , Stanley, it feels so good.”

“Me, or the eggs?”

“Oh, the eggs, definitely - ah!”

Stan smirks. “You were saying?” 

Stan pumps his slick hand on Stanford’s cock another time, squeezing from base to tip. Ford releases another expletive. He pulls himself off of Stanley’s cock, much to Stan’s alarm.

“It’s okay,” Ford reassures him. He motions for Stanley to sit up so he can rest against the headboard. Once he does, Ford pulls himself into the space between Stan’s thighs, nudging them apart with his knees. He drapes his arms around Stan’s shoulders, and touches their foreheads together.

“…go ahead,” Ford allows. His gaze touches to Stan’s again before flicking away, grinning slightly.

Stan kisses him open-mouthed. “You’re gonna…?”

“Yeah.”

Stan only briefly hesitates before he nods in agreement. He’s not really sure how the next part of their play is going to go, but… it’s Ford. He trusts Ford. Ford hums his thanks and drops a kiss to Stan’s shoulder, before resting his forehead against it.                  

Stanley slicks up his hand with more lube, reaches down to grasp Stanford’s arousal firmly in a back-handed grip. He curls his other arm around his brother as he slowly tugs and strokes at Ford’s warm, thick cock. Ford makes more low noises of approval. He’s panting softly into Stanley’s ear now, arms tightening slightly around Stanley as he tenses periodically (Stanley assumes, to work the toys out of his body).

This… this had been the part about the whole egg thing that Stanley hadn’t quite understood. He still doesn’t. And like Stanford had told him… he didn’t have to.  

He thinks, however, maybe, that he might start to understand it just a tiny bit when Stanford suddenly gasps the same kind of gasp he’d made when the egg had been pushed fully into him. One of his arms comes away from where he’s been clinging to Stanley, goes around behind of him and between his legs.

Stan’s motions slow, distracted by the change in progress. He cranes his neck a little to see, but it’s almost impossible to see anything the way he’s body-hugging Ford right now. Ford makes an undignified noise.     

“Keep going,” Ford mumbles into the crook of Stan’s neck, slightly embarrassed.

Stan starts stroking Ford again, long, steady pulls from root to tip to root again until Ford’s breathing goes back to being labored and his hips are tipping towards Stanley. Ford takes several breaths before tensing again, one hand still cupped to his nether regions from behind. He holds it for a few seconds before exhaling sharply, then repeating the process. All the while Stan continues fondling Ford in near silence, simply listening to the noises his brother makes while growing ever more aware of the ache between his own legs.  

“Fuck,” Ford finally says, a few breaths later, but it’s got that desperate edge to it, like the way he chants Stanley’s name when he’s close to blowing it. His hand is still pressed between his legs, empty.

“Yeah.” Stanley turns his head and sucks at Stanford’s ear. The free hand that had been supporting Stanford’s back comes around and starts trailing lightly up and down along his chest and stomach, feather-light touches to over-sensitive skin. He reaches further down Stanford’s cock, brushes his fingers against his brother’s before roaming back up to roll his balls. “C’mon, Sixer. You’re so close.”

“Shit!” Stanford jerks against him. Stanley thumbs the head of Ford’s cock, smears the precum down the length of it as Ford gasps and shudders against him. He hasn’t come yet, but there’s a glimpse of dark jade glistening wetly between the fingers of the hand between his legs. He’s passed one of the eggs.        

Stan rumbles his encouragement against Ford’s ear, quietly surprised by the speed of the toy’s removal. Ford drops the dark green egg onto the bed and Stan reaches down to feel his brother; the lube left from the egg is thick and sticky around Ford’s hole, even dribbling from it a little. He’s still puckered up tight. Ford whines a little as Stan starts swirling a fingertip around his entrance again, testing him, teasing. He cries out when Stan pushes in a finger and this time it goes all the way to the third knuckle before he hits the toy.   

Stan inhales. His dick is throbbing ridiculously hard. “I could do you like this. Fuck you with the toy inside you, while you ride my cock.”

 _“Stanley,”_ Ford begs.

Stan slips in a second finger. It’s easy passage, after the two toys before it. He scissors them experimentally, wide as he can go, and Ford fucking keens. “Oh, fuck! Yes!”

 _“C’mon,”_ Stan urges, his voice a husky growl. He pushes his fingers in again, _pushes_ them until they hit the egg _again_ and Ford scrabbles at Stanley’s hand outside of him. 

Stan’s other hand starts jerking Stanford off again. Ford starts thrusting down against his administrations, hips low and knees spread wide between Stanley’s thighs. 

“C’mon, Sixer. Give it to me.”

“Give it to you?!”

“Yeah.” Stan grins, fully aware of the absurdity of the line in their current context. He keeps scissoring Ford amidst the other’s laughter and the laughs turn quickly into drawn out moans. “Come on, baby.”

Ford starts pushing again but this time he doesn’t hold his breath in silence. He’s full-out moaning with each time he bears down and the sounds spark a roaring fire in Stan’s gut. He wants to fill Stanford up. He wants to fill his twin up, push himself inside so deep and thick that Stanford won’t be able to think about anything other than how wide he’s stretched around Stan’s fat cock, the way he’d groaned around the damned eggs inside of him, pump him full of cum until it’s spilling from him and more. Stanley feels the way his twin squeezes tight around his fingers, feels the way the fucking egg inside of him is actually travelling downwards and holy shit! _It’s right there against his fingers._ Stanford’s pushing with enough force that the toy is actually forcing his fingers out of the way.

He cups his hand to Ford’s genitals the way he’d seen his twin do earlier. In the second before it emerges from him Stanley actually feels the way the toy stretches his brother’s skin, from the inside - as the bright blue egg is pushed out wide end first, and it bulges from him, lodged at its widest circumference - and then as the rest of it pops out almost comically in a rush. Stanford gives a short cry as it does before he’s coming between them, striping up both their chests in a forceful spurt of creamy liquid. Stanley pumps his brother through his orgasm, almost milking his cock until Stanford’s shuddering with nothing left to give.

“Holy.” Stanley stares down at Stanford, still trembling against him, awestruck and feeling a little dazed. He’d just helped his brother shit out two eggs and _liked it._    

“Fuck.” Stanford wipes at his eyes. He’s panting loudly. He grabs blindly for Stanley, desperate. “Stanley…!”

That’s all the go-ahead Stanley needs. He tosses the egg aside, practically throws Ford back down against the bed - spending a second or so to slick up his own dick with the fresh lubricant that’s already between them - and then he thrusts into Stanford. He grabs his brother’s hips hard enough to leave bruises and then slams himself inside. Their skin slaps loudly. Stanford howls and claws at the sheets.  

Stan pistons his hips three, four times, before he’s hunching over Ford with a roar. Stanford returns the groan in kind.

They come down slowly. Stan lowers himself on shaky arms and starts kissing Ford all over. They’re both moaning still, riding out their respective aftershocks.

“Christ.” Stanford heaves a loud, contented sigh. He has that stupid, just-got-fucked smile on his face that’s contagious. “You lied when you said this was new for you.”

“Stanley Pines? A liar? Wow! Who woulda thunk!” He pauses. “Seriously though, it’s… still weird. Just, not when it’s you. …Not that I know a lot of people who shit eggs.”

“It is _not_ like defecation.”

“It came out of your ass.”

“So did your dick.”

“My dick doesn’t detach itself!”

“The point is,” Stanford simpers, “even though it isn’t something that stokes your fire, it’s clearly fuel for mine. As I’ve very kindly demonstrated.”

 _“I still don’t get it,”_ Stanley says.     


End file.
